So I was due to go back to Slimming World today after missing it last week on account of being a Fatso who had gained weight for the second week in a row.
And I thought it would be a hugely successful visit with lots of clapping for me and getting to share my story of all the exciting recipes I had used while every one looked at me with envy at my amazing weight loss. This vision was not because of the huge amounts of quark, yogurt in my cupboard and packs of steak in the fridge and tons and tons of fruit and veg everywhere. Not because I stuck to the plan (I mean – god who does do that for a full week?). But because I have had flu. And have barely eaten a thing. I started with an upset stomach but I thought it was because of my slot on Radio Cork (just dropping that in.. can’t help it…. I was on the Radio… ME! On the feckin radio). So no need to worry about being a fatty or the baldy bit on the side of my head or the baggy eyes…I have the body and the face for radio that’s for sure! They called me and wanted me to come on and talk about my blog. I was well cool about it then got more and more terrified as the time approached. You can find it on Radio Cork Opinion Show with PJ Coogan on 4/4 if you fancy a listen. (You may hear some echo in the background – as had to pretty much do it from the loo). So I thought it was nerves or maybe the magnesium supplements I am back on because they do help with the menopausal exhaustion. But nope – next day on fire, throat hurting, head hurting, bones hurting. Resulting in three days in bed with no meals. So I had predicted a massive weight loss.
Then I had a wee pre weight in – and was raging!!! I weigh the exact same as when I started – ie I have regained the entire half stone I lost. FFS!!!! How can that be? I am a freak of feckin nature. I was ranting and jumping naked on and off the scales so it was very brave of my partner to come and see what they could do to help.
I was emotional anyway even before realising I was once again a Fatty. Declining estrogen puts you in a permanent state of PMS. So when pre menstrual it is a double whammy. I had to pull over before I crashed the car earlier in the day as Ed Sheerans Supermarket Flowers came on and I sobbed and sobbed and couldn’t see the road or control the steering wheel. Then someone at work asked if I had any kids and when I said No they said ‘oh what a shame – did it just not happen for you?’. I am so over this shite – I do not need or want sympathy for being childless. I used to nod and say ‘yes oh well aren’t you lucky to have kids’ etc and try and hide the boredom as they told me about their offspring. But the ‘Don’t Give a Fuck’ hormones had taken over. She rambled on with smug smiles ‘I have three – I just can’t imagine life without them. I don’t think it would be worth living ‘. I interrupted her “What a shame?’ . She was most shocked ‘What? she gasped’. ‘Yes I said it must be awful to have three children and absolutely no life outwith them’. She wasn’t smiling now. But I was on a roll. ‘The tiredness. The cost. The sheer tedium. I don’t know how you do it? My life would not be worth living if I had three kids. I am so glad I dodged that bullet’. My quite nice work colleague said later I had maybe gone too far. But to be honest I was just getting warmed up – I managed to offend quite a few others by the end of the day. The thing with hormonal rage is that you just don’t know if you are hormonal or if the person you are dealing with is just a twat. Today I think I was mainly justified. I am just going to check our disciplinary process though just to see if declining estrogen is a mitigating circumstance…. just to be sure.
Anyway I digress – again. Back to bloody gaining weight when not even eating. My partner must have been feeling brave. ‘You did have lots of those honey throat lozenges – and all that cough syrup and lemsips’. ‘THAT’S MEDICINE’ I screeched. ‘IT DOESN’T COUNT’. ‘I think it does’ was the mild reply. I looked it up – feck – it is true – throat lozenges – one and a half syns each and I was necking about 20 a day. Lemsips – half a syn each and I was necking them back too with a massive shot of honey and a whisky in the evening one. ‘Remember as well you were having cans of coke coz you said the bubbles helped by scratching your throat’. Shit – yes I had forgotten about that – 7 syns a can and I had about 3 a day. ‘And remember when we got the dine in for a tenner deal?’ my partner continued perhaps not realising that I was about to do a menopausal equivalent of the Incredible Hulk as I was being made very angry by all these reminders… ‘You ate it all – the full chicken and the veg and the wine – I was too ill’ I snapped. ‘Yes but you said you would eat all the chocolate profiteroles as the cold cream inside them would help your throat. I suggested you eat some of the feckin tubs of quark that are in the fridge but you said they tasted like shit’. This is true – I had forgotten about that. And I suddenly remembered eating a tub of Ben and Jerrys for a similar reason while I was alone watching loose women from my bed. I decided not to vocalise that – my partner was having too much bloody fun without adding that in. ‘And remember your mum brought you a box of chocolates to cheer you up’. ‘i beg to feckin differ – we SHARED those’ I snapped. ‘Well no’ said my partner who is just a bit too feckin literal at the moment – ‘you gave me the coffee one and the nut one because you didn’t like them – but you scoffed the rest – even the strawberry one and you know that is my favourite’.
So it would appear that perhaps gaining weight is not so surprising but ffs I have been POORLY. It wouldn’t be so bad if I had been out getting bevvied having fun and scoffing three course meals. But seems totally crap that all the medicinal things have made me a chubster again.
So I am not going back to Slimming World. I don’t think it was really me. Almost 100 quid on the pass and the books and the shite hifi bars and stressing and worrying and chopping and cooking – just to end up where I started. And a night a week happy clapping and talking about how to make chocolate out of branflakes etc. Life is just too short for that bollocks. My decision confirmed by my pal who is rejoining as she stated ‘it is the only thing that works’. She has been starting and restarting for five years and is 2 stone heavier than when she first started. That is the definition of madness – doing the same thing but expecting a different result. So feck it
While on my sickbed I managed to figure out Twitter. I wasn’t going to bother coz I thought how on earth can I just write two lines about everything, I like to ramble (as you can probably tell). But I was watching (rolling about laughing) watching the Senate try to question Mark Zuckerberg about Facebook while clearly not having a clue about it so decided I wanted to be more Zuckerberg and less crusty old politician. So I have done it with some (a lot) of IT support from my 12 year old niece who kept telling me that Twitter was for old people and I should do Instagram. I kept telling her I am an old people so it will do for now. Anyway if you do want to follow my ‘mini rants’ then you can follow me on twitter @gallopingcatast. It was going to be gallopingcatastrophe but I didn’t have enough space so we had to go for that. So now I am a social media whiz!! Andrea Mclean and Kaye Adams have retweeted me already – I almost peed my pants when I saw it. I told my niece proudly and she said ‘who are they?’ FFS. She thinks I am a daft old fogey – just a few years ago she thought I was the most fabulous person on this earth because I made up Irish Dancing jigs for her and made quack quack noises when we saw a duck/ Now I am just an old fogey…. hey ho. Whatevers as she would say!